A Matter of Propriety
by Shado Librarian
Summary: SHADO and Commander Straker are faced with UFO attacks, personnel issues, and worse.
1. Chapter 1

**Copyright January 1, 2000 **

**Follows 'Midsummer's Eve' by a few months.  
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Ed Straker opened the door to the outer office of Harlington-Straker Studio's CEO and stopped. A slim woman with a generous bosom and shoulder length brown hair was standing in front of Miss Ealand's desk. She wore a smart beige pant suit, brown shoes with a matching oversize leather purse thrown over her shoulder and she looked very familiar.

"I'm here to see Mister Komack," the woman said. The voice keyed in a name to match the body.

"You can go right in," the ever-efficient secretary, Miss Ealand, said, indicating the second door on the wall opposite the entrance. It was the door to the office next to his - the studio's chief operating officer. The woman, Josephine Frazer, nodded a thank you to Miss Ealand and strolled into the indicated office as though she owned it.

"I thought I was the only one you pulled that trick on," Straker said, finally entering the outer office. He stopped in front of the desk.

Janice Ealand smiled up at him. "Chauvinists come in both genders, sir," she said, handing him a file from a pile on her desk.

"Speaking of chauvinists, how's that problem with Mason shaking out?" he asked, placing the file in his briefcase. The file belonged to Supreme Headquarters Alien Defense Organization - SHADO - eighty feet below. Straker, senior officer of the top-secret organization, had little to do with the day to day business of the studios any more.

"We've been fielding a lot of complaints about how he's been treating the rest of his crew," Miss Ealand told him. "If we don't take care of it soon, we may have a strike on our hands."

"I hadn't realized it was that bad," Straker admitted.

Ealand nodded.

"Why doesn't she just fire him, if it's that bad?" he wondered.

"Because you signed a virtually unbreakable contract with him and he owes us one more picture after this one," Ealand reminded him.

"Oh, that. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Up and coming director, two major hits in two years," Straker explained with a smile. "How was I to know he made such extensive use of the casting room couch?"

"And our casting office doesn't even have a couch."

Straker checked his watch. "About how long do you think it will be?"

"When she was here last time, it took about an hour. I expect the same this time," Ealand said. "By the way, I did check out her story. She is working for United News Service now, mostly because of her interview with you."

"With me?" Straker asked, surprised.

"Apparently, the fact she got anything out of you at all impressed the editors over there," Ealand explained. "You have a reputation of being a difficult interview subject."

"I accept the necessity of a free press in free society," Straker said. "But nobody ever said I had to like reporters."

"Yes, sir."

Ealand flipped a switch on her desk and the door to his office slid open. He nodded a thank you and went inside. The doors closed behind him.

He went over to the broad desk in front of the window and flipped open the cigarette box on its surface. "Straker."

"Voice Print identification positive, Commander Straker," the dry, disembodied computer voice announced. Straker flipped a switch on the desk and the room began to go down like the high speed elevator it really was.

Straker sat on the corner of the desk and looked over the papers Miss Ealand had handed him. Routine matters, personnel assignments, evaluations, equipment maintenance and repair due to the heat wave London was suffering. The heat brought storms and storms brought damage to delicate antennas

The elevator stopped and the doors opened to reveal the underground complex of SHADO. Straker stepped out and nodded a greeting to the uniformed guard waiting in the hallway.

"Commander, may I speak with you, privately?" Lieutenant Gay Ellis called quietly as he approached the entrance to his real office. The doors slid open automatically and he ushered her inside.

"What is it, Gay?" he asked, settling behind the slate topped desk. He gestured for her to take a seat on one of the benches built into the office corners.

"I have a little problem, sir," Ellis began. She twisted her hands together nervously.

"Yes?"

"The report is probably somewhere in that pile," she said, nodding to the tall pile of files on the desktop.

"Why don't you just tell me what's in it, Lieutenant."

"I'm pregnant."

"I see," Straker commented. "What do you intend to do about it?"

"I don't understand, sir."

"Gay, you are well aware of SHADO's policy concerning mandatory contraception for Moonbase personnel," Straker told her.

"I haven't been on Moonbase for better than three months," Ellis said. "I've been teaching classes for new recruits, sir."

"I know that, and that's the only reason we're even having this discussion," Straker said.

"Yes, sir."

"I assume Mark is the father?"

Ellis nodded. Straker knew that Ellis and Mark Bradley were close. He wasn't surprised to find out they were lovers. He was surprised, however, to find Ellis pregnant. SHADO had high hopes for her. She was bright and capable. Her stint as a trainer was in preparation for bigger things.

"So, what do you intend to do?" he asked.

"I guess that depends. I love Mark."

"Have you told him, yet?"

"I was planning to do that this evening," she said. She looked worried and unhappy.

"Gay, I want you to understand something. The problem is not that you're pregnant. If you choose to have the baby, you'll be assigned duties down here, or put on an extended leave of absence until you're ready to come back to work," he said, choosing his words carefully. "The problem is the timing. We've been under the magnifying glass for some time now. SHADO's recruitment practices, personnel policies, disciplinary review procedures. SHADO's mission requires it to possess so much power, we have a greater capacity for abuse of that power than any group in the world. That means we can't afford to be anything but completely professional and proper. The slightest hint of impropriety would be inviting the wolves in. And they're already baying at the doors."

"I hadn't realized it was that serious," she admitted. "Mark and I had figured that if it didn't affect our job performance it shouldn't matter to anyone else."

"If this were an ideal world, it wouldn't. But it isn't, and it does matter," Straker said.

"What about Colonel Komack?"

"Despite what our records down here may say, I was never her supervisor," Straker said with a smile. "It's a little different with you and Mark."

The office door slid open. Straker looked over to see Alec Freeman walk in.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were busy," the Australian officer said.

"Come in, Alec. Lieutenant Ellis and I were just finished," Straker said. He turned back to Ellis. "Think about it, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir," the young woman murmured. She stood to leave then stopped as if she wanted to say more. She decided against it. "Yes, sir," she said again as she left the office.

"What's going on?" Freeman wondered, watching her go.

"More personnel problems."

"I figured that was my job."

"I figured you had enough on your plate."

"Oh?"

Straker didn't respond. He started looking over the files piled on his desk, the accumulation of a weekend. He picked up the top file and started reading.

"What's happening with that New Zealand situation?" Straker asked after a moment. He didn't look up from his reading.

Freeman went to the liquor dispenser and poured himself a drink. "Prescott's demanding a full disciplinary review on Kazanski. She claims her last performance review was unduly influenced by the fact she refused his sexual advances."

"What does he say about it?"

"He admits to taking her out. He's even admitted to borrowing funds from the base accounts to pay for his little fling. However, he swears his remarks in her performance review had nothing to do with her rejecting him."

"Do you believe him?" Straker asked, finally looking up.

"I honestly don't know. New Zealand's a very small, isolated base. It could be that Kazanski just chose the wrong operative to ask out. Or it could be something more."

Straker nodded, his expression thoughtful and a little worried.

"It's probably just a misunderstanding that's been blown all out of proportion because the base is so small," Freeman said. "Why are you so worried?"

"Prescott registered her complaint with General Henderson and the IAC."

"And Henderson wants answers yesterday," Freeman filled in for himself.

Straker nodded.

"Jackson sent Flora Sauder to handle the investigation. She was one of his protégés. If anyone can get to the bottom of them, she can. She just hasn't had time yet."

"She must have some idea already."

"I talked with her this morning. She says they don't trust her enough to talk to her yet," he reported.

Straker's expression became more troubled. "That bothers me in itself. What are they trying to hide?"

"Maybe they just don't have anything to say," Freeman suggested.

"Alec, they're human beings. Human beings always have something to say."

An alarm sounded in the Control room: "Red Alert..."

Straker and Freeman hurried out of the office.

"Sighting confirmed," Nina Barry announced from the video screen over Ford's station. "Area 014 263. Green."

Behind her, Joan Harrington could be seen seated at her own console: "Interceptors, Immediate launch!"

"Moonbase to control," Barry announced. "Have U.F.O. on positive track. Red 128 041."

SHADO waited. It was in the silence the action took place, when the pilots were too busy to talk.

After a few moments: "Detonation confirmed, U.F.O. destroyed."

"Convey my congratulations to the pilots," Straker instructed.

"Yes, sir," Barry agreed before the screen when blank.

Straker checked his watch. "I suppose I should go up and rescue my C.O.O. from the tender mercies of Miss Josephine Frazer."

"Josephine Frazer? Freeman asked. The name sounded familiar and finally clicked: "The fake reporter?"

"The same," Straker said.

"Why'd you let her in the studio?"

"I didn't," Straker said with more than a little annoyance in his voice.

"This should be interesting," Freeman chuckled.

"I'm glad you think so," Straker groused. But Freeman thought he detected a gleam of amusement in Straker's eyes.

-o-o-o-

The upstairs office doors slid open and Straker left the leather chair he'd occupied only moments before, shuffling papers as though he was finishing up some paper work. It was all for show in the event someone outside of SHADO was waiting for him when the doors opened.

"Still in there?" he asked Ealand as he stepped out of the office.

Ealand nodded, raising one well formed eyebrow and giving Straker a knowing grin.

Returning her grin, he stepped over to the door to the office next to his, taking a moment to brush a speck of dust from the brass name plate beside it: E., Chief of Operations.

He didn't bother to knock as he swung the door open.

Kathryn Komack was seated at her desk, facing the door. Josephine Frazer was sitting opposite the desk in one of the designer chairs Komack had specifically chosen for her office. It was impossible to sit in it for any length of time.

Frazer looked up as the door opened, as if hoping she was about to be rescued from the chair. Her expression brightened as she recognized him: "Mister Straker, I was hoping I'd run into you while I was here. I never did get a chance to thank you for dinner that night. Or for taking care of the repairs to my car."

"Don't worry about it, Miss Frazer," he assured her. "It was a long time ago."

"Yes. But maybe we can catch up on that dessert sometime. The one I didn't get that night at dinner?" She smiled suggestively at him.

"I don't think so, Miss Frazer."

"Pity. It might have been fun." She didn't seem overly disappointed at his rejection but he knew she was watching him closely.

Straker went around Komack's desk to the built-in cabinet under the window. The cabinet had a small bar sink set into it. A coffee maker sat on the tiled top with several mugs, a bowl of sugar and a thermos of cream. He checked the coffee carafe and found it nearly empty. With a faint sigh of resignation, he began to search around for the coffee.

Komack turned and watched him for a moment before turning her attention back to the reporter. The baby kicked and she rubbed her distended belly absently. This one was a lot more active that Esther had been. The delivery date couldn't come soon enough as far as she was concerned. Another four weeks.

"How does Mister Komack feel about you working so late in your pregnancy?" Frazer asked, noting Komack's gesture.

"My father couldn't care less," Komack responded with a grin.

Frazer was openly surprised. "I saw the ring and assumed you were married."

"I am."

"You need to understand, Miss Frazer," Straker said, finally finding the can of coffee. "American women are not obligated to take their husband's name, especially in their professional life. Actually, I don't think any Western woman is obligated to change her name just because she's married." He turned to Komack: "All you have here is decaf."

"Doctor Taylor wants me to lay off the caffeine till after the baby's born," Komack explained. "You could stand a little decaffeination yourself."

"I don't drink and I quit smoking last year," Straker said with a small grin. "I have to have some vices."

Frazer watched the exchange, her brows drawn together in obvious confusion. Finally: "Miss Komack, how does your husband feel about your career?"

"I haven't heard any complaints," she replied. She turned to Straker who was putting the final touches on his coffee preparations. "Have you?"

"Only that he has to cook three nights a week. When he's home at all," Straker said. "He travels a lot," he explained, checking his watch. "Miss Komack, we have an appointment with those new backers in about five minutes."

Frazer took the hint and stood, holding her note pad. Straker noted that her purse was still on the floor, under her chair. "Well, I think that does it, then. Thank you."

She turned to leave, apparently forgetting to pick up her purse.

Straker came around the desk and scooped up the leather bag. He noted that as before there was a microphone fixed to the front flap and tape recorder inside. "Miss Frazer, your purse."

"Oh, thank you, Mister Straker. Silly me, I'm always forgetting it." She took the purse from his hand and slung it over her shoulder as she left the office. Straker closed the door behind her.

"I can see why you had so much trouble with her," Komack said after a moment.

"How was the interview?" He perched on the corner of her desk, knowing what an object of torture the chair was.

Komack shrugged.

"Well, what did she want to know?"

"She was interested in the sudden management restructuring the studio went through last year. How I was chosen to become C.O.O. of Harlington-Straker Studios, that sort of thing. She was very curious as to how you handled the changes made in your absence."

"And what did you tell her?"

Komack grinned. "The same thing I tell everyone. The board's changes were made necessary when you became ill. And you not only accepted the changes they made gracefully, but you made many of them permanent. I make you sound positively saintly."

"Well, I'm glad somebody's working on my P.R.," Straker said, returning her grin.

"I figured it came with the territory."

That brought a chuckle. He stepped closer to her, leaned over and gave her a lingering kiss. "You smell good. You sure we have to show up to that party tonight?

"Positive. It's their fiftieth anniversary. We have to be there," Komack said.

"Maybe we can leave early," he suggested.

"With our luck there'll be an alert tonight," she said with a resigned sigh.

"Don't even say it. We had one an hour ago," he explained. "Nina cleaned it up fast. Things have been pretty quiet the last couple days"

"Be nice if it could stay that way."

"It won't," Straker said. "I suppose I should go back to work."

"The party's at seven," she reminded him. "I should be done here about five. Oh, and Aunt Amanda called and said Uncle Jim wanted you to show up in uniform."

"Why?"

"She didn't say, but she was very insistent on it. I rather suspect Uncle Jim wants to show you off to his buddies from JCS. She said a lot of American brass was planning to show up tonight."

"Just what I need, a whole bunch of American brass on our doorstep," Straker groused.

"At least they're only here for a party, not your hide," Komack said.

"Thank God for small favors," Straker said. "I'll meet you at home and we'll go together."

"The two of us showing up at the same place at the same time? Unheard of," she said with a grin.

"You knew the job was dangerous when you took it," said Straker, returning her grin.

"And fool that I am I love you anyway."

He leaned over and kissed her, first gently, then with passion. Neither of them really wanted to go back to work.

-o-o-o-

"How'd Kate make out?" Freeman asked when Straker finally reappeared in SHADO's Control Room.

"No problem," Straker told him. "Oh, by the way, Henderson wants me in uniform tonight. And if I have to, so do you."

Freeman's jaw dropped. "Why does he want you in uniform?"

"I wish I knew," Straker admitted. "Apparently a bunch of brass from the States is showing up for the party."

"Maybe we'll have a major alert tonight and we'll have an excuse not to show," Freeman said, only half joking.

"I don't think the aliens will oblige us with an attack large enough to get me off the hook. Or you either."


	2. Chapter 2

Straker still wasn't used to the idea of owning a large house. He'd been quite comfortable in his two bedroom flat twenty minutes from the studios and SHADO. He'd lived there for seven years. But the flat was simply too small for a new wife and growing family. And the gated community, guarded by a company SHADO now controlled, promised to be far safer for all of them.

The house still smelled of new carpet and paint. The front lawn had been rolled in only a week before and a basement rec room was still just wallboard and concrete.

He stood in the middle of the entrance hall, looking up at the open hallway at the top of the stairway. To his right was an office that would eventually double as a guest room. On his left were the double-doors to the living room.

He was in his United States Air Force mess dress uniform, struggling with his bow tie. He tried not to think about the fact that his rank insignia was still that of a colonel. Men his age, men he had served with, were generals now. But his name would never show up on the general staff nomination lists. The commander of SHADO had no one in the U.S. Air Force capable of turning in a review on him.

"Kate, what time's the sitter supposed to get here? We're going to be late," he called up the stairs.

"I told them to be here at 6:30, so they should be here any minute," Komack answered from the upstairs master bedroom.

"You haven't told me who you got for tonight."

"It was going to be Mrs. Bartlett," Komack said. "But she came down with the flu this morning."

"So, who did you find?" Straker insisted.

The doorbell rang and Straker went to the door to find Gay Ellis and Mark Bradley standing on the doorstep. It had started to rain. "Oh hello, Gay, Mark. Come in."

They stepped through the door and he closed it behind them. His expression hardened with annoyance and he went to the bottom of the stairs.

"Kathryn, we have to talk."

She came to the railing at the top of the stairway. "Yes, sir?" she asked cheerily.

"It's called abuse of privilege." He was not amused.

Ellis sensed a blow up coming on. "Sir, Mark's on leave and I'm off duty. We volunteered."

Straker looked over his shoulder at her. "Gay, that's not the point."

"What is the point, exactly?" Komack asked, seriously.

"You can't just ask employees to do whatever you feel like, especially from downstairs. I can't ask."

"You didn't"

"Commander, nobody asked us," Ellis said. "I overheard Miss Komack tell Mister Freeman about needing a babysitter tonight and I volunteered."

"And I came along to keep her company," Bradley added in his soft Jamaican accent. "There's nothing out of line, sir. Really."

Straker didn't answer, but headed into the office, to the washroom beyond. Komack watched from the top of the stairs. "Esther's playing in her room," she told Ellis.

Ellis headed upstairs to meet her new charge. Bradley followed Straker. The door to the washroom was open and Straker was standing at the lavatory mirror, fighting with his tie.

"We are off-duty and we did volunteer to help out," Bradley said.

Straker said nothing, but he stopped to watch Bradley's reflection in the mirror.

"Unless you're afraid we're doing it to score points with you," the black SHADO astronaut suggested.

Straker still said nothing, but Bradley could see his lips tighten. "Is that it, sir?"

"Yes."

Bradley looked surprised and a little hurt at Straker's admission

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded," Straker said. "I appreciate the two of you helping out and I don't believe either of you are doing it to impress me. The question is... Never mind. It's too late. You're already here."

Straker started working on his tie once again. Bradley shook his head in amusement, stepped closer and finished tying the bow for his superior officer.

"I hate parties," Straker said flatly.

Bradley chuckled. "You could come up with a good excuse."

"The only excuse General Henderson'll take is a full scale attack or Kate going into labor. And she's not due for another four weeks."

"I'm sure you'll live," Bradley assured him. "You may even enjoy yourself."

Straker glared sourly at him as they left the small washroom to go back to the entrance hall. It was raining harder and thunder cracked.

Komack started down the stairs. She was wearing a designer evening gown in silver gray. A short jacket, diamond necklace and matching earrings completed her ensemble.

"My dear Mrs. Straker, you look lovely this evening," Straker said. He had decided being angry with her wasn't worth it, but he promised himself a long talk with his wife on the concept of abuse of privilege sometime. He offered her his arm.

"Thank you Colonel Straker. You're not half bad yourself," said Komack, accepting it.

"We should be back by 10," Straker told Bradley. "Esther's bedtime is 8:00. And help yourself to the kitchen if you guys get hungry."

"Yes, sir. Have a good time."

-o-o-o-

It was raining hard and the weather report had indicated it wouldn't break before morning. Straker's bronze Euroford Omen handled fine on the rain slick road and there was little traffic.

"I hadn't realized you were going to be so touchy about operatives volunteering to babysit while off duty," Komack said from the passenger seat. "I could have had Miss Ealand find a girl from the steno pool to do it."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. It's just this Kazanski thing's got me seeing bogeymen," Straker said. "Not to mention the problems with Mason."

"Mason's my problem, not yours," she reminded him. "Is that all there is to it?"

"Well, Gay dropped a bombshell on me this morning which makes her showing up at the door a little suspect," Straker admitted. "I should know her decision this evening or tomorrow."

"Decision on what?" Komack asked.

Straker didn't answer as he concentrated on the road ahead. Komack watched the road worriedly. They were already over the speed limit and the rain wasn't helping matters.

"Ed, please slow down a little."

"Hmm?"

"Slow down. The Henderson's aren't going to mind us being a few minutes late."

The Omen slowed to a more reasonable speed. "Sorry. I guess I was going a little fast. I don't like being late."

"I don't think they'll mind," she assured him.

-o-o-o-

Straker wove the Omen through the streets central London, finally reaching the parking garage beneath the Zodiac club. He pulled into the parking space designated by the garage attendant seated in a kiosk at the entrance. The garage was nearly full.

Komack and Straker took the small elevator up to the main floor of the club, bypassing the leaded glass double entry doors. The lobby and dining room on the lower level were crowded with people. Most of the men and many of the women were in military uniforms with lots of medals and braid. Those not in uniforms were in formal dress.

Standing near the entrance were Lieutenant General James Henderson, USAF retired, and his wife of fifty years, Amanda. Her blue evening gown matched her eyes and she looked far younger than her seventy-one years. Somewhere in the dining room, a band was playing light jazz.

Straker looked around for Alec Freeman. Freeman's Saab had been parked downstairs and he usually wasn't too far from his vehicle. The Australian was nowhere to be seen, but was probably close-by.

Straker took Komack's arm as they crossed the lobby.

"Congratulations, General, Mrs. Henderson," Straker said, shaking the older man's hand.

"Thank you, Ed. Glad the two of you could make it."Henderson smiled, meaning what he said.

"We wouldn't dream of missing it," Komack assured the older man.

Henderson chuckled, looking at Straker: "Yes, I know how much you love parties."

Amanda Henderson took Komack's arm and they headed for the party in the main dining room. Henderson and Straker watched them leave.

"You're the last ones on the guest list to show,"Henderson commented.

"The baby sitter was a little late and the traffic was worse than usual."

Henderson nodded understanding and turned to follow the two women. Straker fell into step with him.

"What's happening with Kazanski?" The old general asked.

"We're looking into it," Straker said. "Jackson's assistant is down there now."

"You will keep me informed." An order, not a request.

"Naturally." A courtesy, since theoretically the matter was internal to SHADO until the International Astrophysical Commission, which oversaw SHADO's operations for the U.N. and was chaired by Henderson, saw fit to make their own 's request indicated he wasn't ready to interfere with SHADO's internal investigation, yet.

Henderson sighted a tall, fiftyish man wearing five stars on his USAF him over. "Dave, I want you to meet someone."

David Sachs, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, stepped over to Henderson and Straker. Sachs looked like what casting directors thought Air Force generals should look like. Trim, with perfectly groomed brown hair just turning silver at the temples, perfectly tailored uniform with pilot's wings above his medal array.

"General Sachs, I'd like to introduce you to Commander Straker of SHADO,"Henderson said.

Straker stared at Henderson in alarm at the breach of , of all people, was aware how serious security was for SHADO. Lord only knew how often Henderson himself had investigated security breaches within the top-secret organization. And now for him to openly mention SHADO?

Sachs didn't seem to notice Straker's discomfiture, or if he did, chose to ignore it. He grinned as if pleased and put forward his hand to be shook.

It took a moment before Straker responded, shaking the older man's hand. "General Sachs."

"Commander," Sachs greeted. He glanced at Henderson then turned back to Straker. "I've been looking forward to meeting you ever since that little scare you put us through."

"My apologies, sir," Straker said, resorting to formality to cover his concern. "It wasn't our intention to scare anyone. But, it was the only way to deal with the situation we were facing."

"So General Henderson has explained," Sachs said cheerfully. "As I told Jim here, it's a frightening thought that the technology exists that would fool our best techs into thinking an ICBM strike was on its way. It's even more frightening to discover there are people who would use that technology to further their own political agendas," he added more solemnly.

"Yes, sir, it is," Straker agreed, less worried. He knew the cover story Henderson had spun to explain that particular mess. SHADO had been forced to co-opt NATO ,US, and Soviet air defense systems to combat a massive U.F.O. attack not quite a year ago.

"But then, that's why SHADO was put together, wasn't it?" Sachs continued more softly. "A crack high-tech anti-terrorist group?"

Straker glanced at Henderson, heartened to see the older man's self-satisfied grin.

"I never did buy that flying saucer story you were trying to sell me," Sachs told Henderson. "But it's a brilliant cover-story. High-tech black ops, conspiracy, everything. I bet you even have black helos."

"As a matter of fact,"Henderson confirmed.

Sachs nodded, apparently pleased to have his suspicions confirmed. With any luck he would never know how thoroughly Henderson had snowed him, telling him the truth in such a way that he would never believe it. Sachs reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, flat black velvet box.

"General Putin has been on my case for the past six months to get this pushed through," Sachs said ruefully, handing Straker the box. "I wouldn't have thought the Soviets would care, but then, you pulled their fat out of the fire that day, too."

"Congratulations, Ed,"Henderson said quietly.

Curious, Straker opened the box. Inside, nestled within the white satin lining of the box, were the shoulder boards and stars for a brigadier general, USAF.

"Thank you, sir," Straker murmured in shock. This was the last thing in the world he had expected. He had resigned himself long ago to retiring as a colonel.

"The promotion list has you down as a reserve officer out of Mildenhall,"Henderson explained. "It's official as of yesterday."

"The C.O. over there's going to be a little surprised when he sees my name on his list of officers. I haven't been over there in about four years. I hope they don't actually expect me to show up for maneuvers after all this time."

"I don't think we'll have a problem there," the old man assured him with a grin, helping Straker with the new epaulettes and rank insignia.

Sachs stood by, grinning like a proud uncle.

-o-o-o-

Bradley and Ellis sat on the sofa in the family room. A silly romantic comedy was playing in the television, but neither of them was paying attention to what was happening on the large screen TV. Esther was upstairs in bed, having fallen asleep during the first half-hour of the movie.

Ellis finally pulled back a little, a pensive look on her face. "Mark, we need to talk."

"I was kind of hoping we'd have a chance to talk" Bradley said. "I have something I want to ask you"

"Maybe you want to hear my news first."

"You're seeing some one else?" Bradley asked, not altogether sure if he was making a joke.

"Of course not," she protested.

Ellis was an attractive woman. Pert heart shaped face, laughing green eyes, supple mouth. He could understand if she had decided she needed more freedom. Their relationship had begun three years before, when a computer analysis of a pilot's death had indicated they had feelings for each other. They'd denied it at the time then discovered the computer had detected something neither of them had been aware of. They had tried not to get involved with each other. It took more than two years for them to get up the courage to sleep together. The operatives on SHADO's Moonbase became co-conspirators in keeping the love affair out of sight of headquarters. Bradley wasn't sure how successful they'd been.

"Then, will you marry me?" he asked breathlessly, afraid of what she might say. She was his superior officer within SHADO, a military organization that, like most, frowned on fraternization of that nature.

"Oh, Mark!" Ellis cried.

Bradley was surprised to see tears in her eyes as he opened the small box in his hand and showed her the diamond ring he'd been carrying in his pocket for the past week.

"Oh yes!" She fell into his arms as if afraid he was going to get away from her.


	3. Chapter 3

The beeper in Straker's pocket went off. He pulled it out and checked the number on the tiny screen.

"Trouble?" Henderson asked.

"I don't know. I don't recognize the number," Straker admitted, puzzled. His beeper number wasn't widely known.

He headed over to the porter's kiosk by the main entrance where he knew there was a telephone. The porter handed him the instrument and he punched in the number from beeper. He heard the ring-back and finally the phone on the other end was picked up.

"Hello?" a woman's voice asked.

"Yes, this is Ed Straker, this number came over my pager."

"Oh, hi Mister Straker," the woman said cheerily. The voice sounded oddly familiar. "I'm so glad you got back to me. I really have to talk to you."

"I'm sorry, but who is this?"

"Amy Magillis," she said, sounding surprised he hadn't recognized her voice. "I'm starring in Carl Mason's new movie, don't you remember?"

"Oh, yes," Straker said, placing the name with a face. She was one of the very young starlets Mason had apparently cast on the basis of her sexual technique rather than acting ability. "My apologies Miss Magillis. What's the problem?

"Carl has us scheduled for a night shoot here, but the weather's so awful. But Carl won't let us go and he and Mister Byrne are having an awful row." Now she sounded like she was about to cry.

"Miss Magillis, what do you expect me to do about it?"

"Well, somebody needs to talk some sense into them before somebody gets hurt," she said, sounding close to hysteria.

Straker glanced over to see Komack walking up to him.

"What's going on?" she asked quietly.

Straker covered phone mouthpiece with his hand. "Amy Magillis."

"Mason's girl friend," Komack filled in for herself.

Straker nodded. "She says Mason and Byrne are having a row. Needs somebody to talk to them."

"She paged you?" That made no sense. Byrne and Mason both had Komack's pager number. Neither of them should have had Straker's number and Magillis hadn't been given either number that she knew of. She took the hand set from Straker and listened a moment. Silence.

"She hung up," Komack said, hanging up the phone.

"Were they scheduled for a night shoot?"

"Yes, but I can't imagine Mason trying to work in this weather," she said. She sighed wearily. "I'd better head out there and find out what's going on."

"Want me to come along?" Straker offered.

"I can handle it," she said.

Straker gave her a questioning hurt look.

Komack laughed. "Really. It's what I get paid the big bucks for."

He chuckled and handed her the car keys. "I'll have Alec run me home later."

"I'll see you at home, then," she said, giving him a quick kiss.

Straker watched after her, worry furrowing his brow.

"Something wrong?" Alec Freeman asked, finally locating Straker in the crowd.

"No," Straker said. "It just feels a little funny watching her run to put out the fires instead of you or me."

"She's done a phenomenal job the last ten months," Freeman reminded him.

"There's no denying that."

"So, what's wrong?"

"Something about that phone call," Straker said thoughtfully. "I can't put my finger on it."

"It's probably nothing and I'm sure once Kate gets there, it'll have all blown over," Freeman said.

"You're probably right," Straker said. But the worry didn't leave his face.

"I could call studio security, check out what's going on," Freeman offered.

"That's it," Straker realized. "The phone number. It wasn't the studio."

"What was it?"

"I don't know," he admitted, pulling the pager out. He hit the recall button then handed the pager with the number to Freeman. "Here's the number."

Freeman noted the number down. "I'll get security on it." He picked up the phone and placed the call.

-o-o-o-

In SHADO Control SID announced: "Have three U.F.O.s on positive track, Course, four‑two‑six, one‑five‑eight; green. Speed, zero‑Sol‑eight, Range, Thirty two million miles. Red Alert."

The alert sounded throughout SHADO's systems. Moonbase launched the interceptors.

A few minute later, Barry announced: "Have positive detonation on one, two, and three. Two Ufos destroyed. Interceptor three reports a near miss."

"U.F.O. on positive track, course four‑two‑seven, one ‑five‑five, blue. Speed zero‑Sol‑three, Range, one hundred thousand miles," Space Intruder Detector said.

"It's through," Ford said, reading off his terminal screen.

"Termination?" Paul Foster, senior duty officer for the evening, asked.

A new set of figures appeared on Ford's screen. "Termination three-five‑nine, three‑three‑nine. About five miles north of London. Should I notify Commander Straker, sir?

"No, let him enjoy the party. Launch Sky-one and get the Mobiles out there."

The side road was slick, but the Omen's tires didn't loose traction. One of the advantages of extremely high priced, well-designed tires. The rain hadn't let up and the wind had started in. Komack was beginning to dislike English weather. A mile marker at the side of the road indicated she was less than ten miles from the film studios, taking back roads as the traffic report told of a minor accident on the highway. Flashing red lights ahead warned of a problem on the road ahead and a road worker wearing a yellow slicker waved the car onto an entrance ramp to the M-3. The detour would take her several miles out of her way.

There was a bright flash on the road ahead, the sound of metal rending and then an explosion. For a brief moment, Komack thought a car had been hit by lightning. Then she saw it, a glowing U.F.O. ducking in and out of the clouds, firing its plasma weapon at the roadway. It flew overhead and an explosion went off beside the car.

Kathryn Komack fought to maintain control of the now careening Omen, hoping to stay on the road long enough for the automatic tire repair system to kick in. But the repair system wasn't designed to take care of tires that had shredded. Another blast drove the car off the road, skidding down the muddy hill until it finally came to rest against a tree. She felt a searing pain and everything went black.

-o-o-o-

In the control room, an alarm sounded at one of the consoles. Johnson checked the alert code. "Colonel Foster, I have an alarm on Commander Straker's car.

"Where?"

The young woman typed a sequence into the keyboard at her station. After a few moments, a top secret satellite sent back a set of coordinates. Johnson matched it against a standard map.

"Ten miles out on the M-3."

"Get security out there," Foster ordered.

Johnson flipped the necessary switches on her console and notified SHADO's security group.

Foster picked up the telephone receiver on top of the shift supervisor's console. "Get me the Zodiac Club, please," he asked SHADO's operator.

-o-o-o-

The phone rang in the porter's lodge. Donall, the porter, answered the phone and listened a moment. Freeman and Straker hadn't gone far, so he beckoned them back.

"For you, Colonel Freeman," Donall announced, handing Freeman the handset.

Freeman took the phone: "Freeman."

"Alec, we've just picked up an alarm on Ed's car," Foster said.

Freeman turned to Straker. "Paul has an alarm on your car."

"Where?" Straker demanded.

Freeman repeated the question into the phone. Foster gave him the location. "Right, Paul," Freeman said. "Ed's with me here. We're gonna' head out there... Right." With grim resignation, he handed the phone back to Donall.

"It looks like she's somewhere on M-3," Freeman told Straker. "About half way between here and the studio."


	4. Chapter 4

Freeman's Saab made the trip even faster than the Omen had. In less than 10 minutes, the Saab passed the roadblock and detour signs.

"That wasn't here when we drove in," Straker commented.

"Maybe the road washed out?" Freeman suggested.

"Maybe."

Freeman followed the detour onto the highway. Less than a mile down the road, the two men spotted a section of the guard rail torn away. In the distance, red and blue flashing lights could be seen. Sirens wailed from the lights.

"Here, stop," Straker ordered urgently.

Freeman pulled the Saab over to the shoulder, just beyond the break in the railing. Straker was out of his seat belt and out of the car almost before it had stopped. He ran down the muddy slope, following the torn ruts in the grass.

Freeman climbed out of the car more slowly. "Ed? Ed!" he shouted after his commanding officer and friend.

Straker slipped and skidded down the slope, brush grabbing at his uniform. He didn't care. He saw the glint of bronze colored metal below. The Omen was leaning against a large oak tree. How the tree had survived the impact, he couldn't guess. But the car hadn't. The passenger side of the car was completely stove in.

"Kate?" Straker called. There was no answer.

He slid closer to the car. She was still inside, strapped in the driver's seat. He felt around for the door latch and popped the door open. The hydraulic lifts failed to open the door. He forced it over his head, the hydraulics whining as he did so.

"Kate?" Straker called again. She wasn't moving. He touched her neck to find a pulse. Her skin was cold and clammy, but he found a weak pulse. She stirred beneath his touch.

"Ed?"

"Shh. I'm right here, baby," he said quietly. It was too dark to see how badly injured she might be.

"It was a Ufo," she said weakly.

"I know," Straker said. "Now, just lay still. Help is on its way." He lifted his head and shouted: "Alec, get an ambulance, NOW!"

Freeman reached inside the car and placed a call to headquarters. After a moment he hung up and walked to the top of the rise. He started down the slope, much more cautiously than Straker had.

"Paul's sending an aerocopter with an aid team," Freeman called. "Should be here in a few minutes."

Straker didn't answer.

"There's a multi-car smash up ahead, all lanes are blocked," Freeman continued. "Ed? Did you hear me?"

"There's a Ufo somewhere near here," Straker said.

"One got through the defenses about ten minutes ago," Freeman confirmed.

Straker touched Komack's face.

"Ed?" Freeman asked.

"Alec, she's so cold," Straker told him.

"The aerocopter should be here any minute."

They heard the rotors of the aerocopter almost before Freeman finished saying it. The white and blue copter landed on the roadway beside Freeman's car, disgorging a three man paramedical team. They spotted Freeman and headed down the slope towards them with a stretcher basket. The team leader took a moment to assess the situation, shining his hand lamp inside of the Omen. He beckoned his team to move in.

"Move aside, sir," he ordered Straker, who hadn't left his place beside Komack. Straker reluctantly moved away, and the team began their work. Within minutes, they'd secured her head and back with a brace, had her out of the seat and into the wire stretcher basket.

"I'll meet you at the hospital," Freeman told Straker. He wasn't sure the blond man heard him.

"No. Get onto work. Find out what's happened," Straker said after a moment.

"Very well," Freeman agreed reluctantly. He climbed into the Saab and watched the medical team load the unconscious woman into the copter. Straker climbed in behind the medical team.

More lights had appeared in the distance, reflecting off the windscreens of both the Saab and the aerocopter as Freeman started the engine and sped away, back the way they'd come to avoid the mess ahead.

Inside the copter, Straker knelt beside his wife was the medics began their work.

"Maybe you'd be more comfortable up front, sir," the team leader said. His name tag read: 'Martin, M. E.'

"Yes, of course," Straker responded, moving aside and heading toward the cockpit. He stopped beside the cockpit door, finding a seat that would let him stay near.

Martin had put a headset on and one of the medics handed Straker one, plugging into the communications console for him.

"Tell Mayland we're coming in," Martin was telling the pilot through the internal system. "We need a trauma team and an emergency obstetric-neonatal team."

"Sir, Mayland wants us to divert to Covington," the pilot said after a moment. "They say they have that smash up on the way in."

"Inform Mayland that this is a SHADO code one," Martin responded.

The exchange bothered Straker. The SHADO code was reserved for alien patients. It alerted security and the receiving medical team to be prepared for anything. He wasn't aware that the signal was used for other purposes.

The pilot finally announced: "We have clearance to land at Mayland. They have both teams standing by."

Straker could see Mayland's tower growing larger in the cockpit windscreen.

"Sir, Mayland has the best trauma team in the area," Martin said to Straker. "If anybody can pull her through, they can."

"And the baby?"

"The OBN team is standing by," Martin said. "So far, the baby seems to be doing okay."

The aerocopter swooped in and gently set down on the roof-top landing pad. With speed developed with long practice, the medical team off-loaded their patient into the care of the Mayland emergency team.

-o-o-o-

Ellis's beeper chirped. Ellis and Bradley disentangled themselves from the sofa and she grabbed the beeper from her purse. Checking the number, she said: "It's the office." Puzzlement colored her voice. She hadn't known she was on the headquarters' emergency duty roster.

Bradley handed her the phone, first making sure the security protocols were in place. A quick phone call: "There's a major alert and they're short staffed."

"I can stay here with Esther," Bradley volunteered.

Ellis hesitated. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, he was so sweet and she loved him, so much. "I don't think that would be such a good idea, Mark," she said, finally. "It wouldn't look right."

"Why? Because of this?" Bradley asked, touching his dark cheek.

"No, silly," Ellis said. She was a little surprised that such a good fighter pilot and astronaut could be so naive. "Because you're a man."

-o-o-o-

The three camouflage-painted mobiles trundled out of their transports and headed across the dark landscape in search of the U.F.O. that had caused such havoc on the M-3. It was the embodiment of SHADO's worst nightmare - a U.F.O. landing in a heavily populated area. The one saving grace was a bad weather. While making the search more difficult, it kept people indoors and out of the way, making it less likely that SHADO's search would be noticed.

"Mobile one to SHADO Control," the driver of the command and communications center called in. "We have reached the termination area and are initiating standard search procedures."

"Roger, Mobile one," came the response.

Within SHADO Headquarters, Paul Foster waited for results.

-o-o-o-

Straker had lost track of time, standing at the glassed wall of the trauma unit waiting room. It was still raining hard and he watched as lightning repeatedly crack across the sky. His muddy uniform jacket was thrown over one of the chairs and he idly wondered how much it would cost to clean the chair. The jacket was undoubtedly ruined.

The announcer on the table radio reported more power outages due to the viciousness of the storm. Phone lines were down and even portable phones were affected as the transceiver towers lost power. Several radio stations were out of commission, their antennas damaged by the fierce wind.

Someone approached, their movement reflected in the glass. Straker didn't move from his place at the window.

"Paul has everything under control," Alec Freeman said. "He has two teams out looking for the Ufo."

"Good."

"How's Kate?"

"They have her in surgery," Straker said, his voice flat with shock and fatigue. "She's lost a lot of blood and they said with all the accident victims coming in, they may not have enough blood to go around."

"What about the other hospitals, the other blood banks?"

"The problem is time. She doesn't have any. The storm's knocking out communications, the roads are blocked. The air ministry's just ordered all non-essential air traffic to stay on the ground. Right now, the only thing in the air within ten miles of Mayland is Sky-one. The mobiles are about the only land transportation still moving."

"So, what do we do?

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Freeman repeated in disbelief.

"There's nothing you can do," Straker said flatly. "There's nothing either of us can do."

"So you'll just stand there, all proud and stubborn, and let her die?" Freeman spat.

"Alec, my hands are tied," Straker said, voice cracking. "Regulations do not take personal needs into account. And you, of all people, know how our regulations read. You used to tell me often enough what I couldn't do."

"Is that why you didn't tell me about Johnny that night?" Freeman asked quietly.

Straker didn't respond.

"You could have told me. We could have figured something out."

"And have you face charges of gross misconduct as well?" Straker asked without moving. "I knew the risks. Not that it would have made any difference."

"You don't know that," Freeman reminded him. "We could have let the transport off-load the drug first. Or found a way to get the drug down here, chartered a plane. Something."

"You did what the situation demanded, Alec. I've never faulted you for that. But tell me, would you have made the same decision if you'd known the drug was on the plane? If you'd known that Johnny was in the hospital?"

"I don't know," Freeman answered after a moment's thought.

"Someone had to be in command that night," Straker said. "It happened to be you."

"You still should have told me."

"We've been over this."

"No, we haven't, not really," Freeman said. "I tried, God knows I tried everything I could think of, but you wouldn't do it. I found out about Johnny from _Kate_, for God's sake."

"I'm sorry, Alec." Straker's voice was so soft Freeman almost missed the comment.

"I hope you rot in hell!" Freeman exploded, suddenly angry with his friend for taking everything so calmly, so coldly.

"We each build our own hell to live in, Alec." Straker said dully.

-o-o-o-

"Mobile one to SHADO Control," the mobile driver called in. "We've covered half of the search area. No joy. Continuing search pattern."

"Thank you, Mobile one. Control out," Foster acknowledged, standing beside the duty supervisor's console.

There was a flutter of motion from Johnson, the duty supervisor. Foster looked up to see Gay Ellis and Mark Bradley walk into the control room. Bradley was carrying a sleepy blonde girl child with a bear and blue blanket - Esther Komack-Straker. Foster noted in passing that both Bradley and Ellis were dressed casually, as if they'd been planning an evening in. Without a word, Ellis went to a vacant communications console and fitted the headset over her ears.

"The commander and Colonel Freeman are over at Mayland," Johnson told Bradley. "I can have someone from security show you the way. And I'm sure Doctor Jackson wouldn't mind looking after the girl for a while."

Bradley smiled his thanks.

-o-o-o-

"We don't often use these tunnels," Melek Binte Asad said as she led Bradley down the corridor after dropping his charge at SHADO's medical center.

Jackson had been there and Esther woke up long enough to say: "Hi, Doctor Doug," before falling back to sleep on the couch in his office.

Asad continued at Bradley's questioning look. "We keep them locked down after that time a med student nearly walked into the Control Room looking for Doctor Jackson's office."

"I hadn't heard about that," Bradley admitted.

Asad laughed. "Somebody told the poor kid that Jackson's office was in the hospital basement. She followed Jackson trying to find it, got lost and ended up here. Needless to say, Jackson now has an office in the Mayland Clinic. I'm told he sometimes can even be found there, usually when he's hiding from the rest of us."

"How did she get past the alarms?"

"Apparently Jackson was in the habit of shutting them off when he went over to Mayland," Asad explained. "We never did figure out exactly how she got past the door lock. Now if you want back in from there, you'll need to call in first so we can get someone to open the door for you from the inside."

She handed him a card. He glanced at it: "Harlington Security Services." The phone number and extension belonged to Security Chief Natiroff's direct line in SHADO Headquarters.

"For such a smart man, Jackson sometimes does really dumb things," she said, placing her thumb over the lit security panel set beside the door at the end of the corridor.

'DOOR OPEN' flashed across the bottom of the panel and Bradley heard bolts disengaging. Asad pushed the door open and let Bradley though. The door shut behind him and Bradley noted there was no door latch on the hospital side.

-o-o-o-

A woman wearing surgical scrubs approached from the trauma center.

"Mr. Straker?" She looked to the unmoving figure standing at the window. She stepped closer and he finally turned at her approach.

"Mr. Straker, congratulations, you have a son," she said with a smile.

"How's my wife?" Straker asked. The woman's expression became more serious.

"Still in surgery," she said. "It's going as well as can be expected." Her expression was solemn, as if she wasn't saying everything. "We're running short on blood, especially in her type."

"I see," Straker commented. "How's my son?" he asked, almost as an afterthought.

The woman flashed him a smile. "He looks good. They've just taken him to the neonatal ICU for observation. You'll be able to see him there in a little while." She smiled once more and headed back the way she came.

-o-o-o-

Freeman got on the elevator on the main floor. The Australian's uniform jacket was thrown over his shoulder and he was buttoning his left shirt cuff. The one thing he had been able to do to help out in the emergency was give blood, even if it wasn't Kate's type. Freeman was surprised to see Bradley standing in the elevator car. "I thought you were on leave."

"Gay was called on duty," Bradley explained. "The regular phones are out and security said you and Commander Straker were both over here."

"Colonel Komack was attacked by that Ufo that got through. It doesn't sound good," Freeman said. "I just wish there was something we could do."

The elevator doors opened onto the trauma center lobby. Freeman and Bradley both stepped out to find Straker still staring out at the storm.

"How's the search going?" Straker asked without turning.

"It's slow," Freeman said. "But they're making progress."

"Have our people found out anything about that call?"

Freeman grimaced. "The phone was a pay-unit in central London, not too far from the Zodiac. Mason cancelled the night shoot when the weather started turning. Mason and Magillis left together, Byrnes said he was heading home and that's what he did."

"Alone?"

Freeman shrugged. "Not according to our report."

Straker turned to give Bradley a curious look.

"Gay was called in. We brought Esther and left her with Dr. Jackson and Nurse Theberge. They were short-handed downstairs. The storm, I guess," the astronaut explained.

Straker nodded then turned back to the window.

"Any news?" Freeman asked.

Straker's mouth pulled into a bitter smile. The reflection in the window, Freeman noted, was more like a death's head. "I have a son. They may let me see him in a little while."

"And Kate?"

The death's head reflection became more pronounced. "As well as can be expected when there isn't enough blood for surgery," Straker said. "You hate me for not allowing the mobiles to transport the medical materials." A statement.

"No," Freeman said. "What's one life, when hundreds are at risk? I just wish there was another way. And I wish it wasn't Kate."

Straker bowed his head, resting his forehead against the cold glass. "I let her go, Alec. God help me, I let her head out there alone. They asked for me, not her. I was the target."

"There's no way you could have known, Ed," Freeman found himself saying. "And if you'd both gone, one of you would certainly be dead now."

"They were gunning for me. It should have been me."

Freeman didn't know how to respond to that, since quite honestly, he wasn't sure he disagreed with Straker's assessment.

Bradley cleared his throat. "Is the situation really that bad?"

"They've got accident victims stacked up in emergency and they're almost out of supplies. But the only transport that's functioning in this weather has other duties."

"I have the same blood type as Colonel Komack. So does Keith Ford," Bradley said.

"I can't order people to give blood," Straker said. "Our rules don't allow it and that's not all they need."

"Yes, sir," Bradley said with a grimace. "I'll head back to work. They may be able to use my help."

"You can call Natiroff from the phone over there," Freeman said, indicating a wall phone not far from the elevators.

Bradley went over to the phone, punched in the number and spoke for several minutes before hanging up.

-o-o-o-

"Mobile one to SHADO Control," the mobile driver called in. "We're at the three quarters mark on the search. Still no joy. Continuing search pattern."

"How soon before Sky-one gets to the area?" Foster demanded of Johnson.

"At least ten minutes, sir," Johnson answered. "Visibility is down to zero and the channel was so rough, they had to get further out to sea before they could launch."

"Any good news from meteorology?" Foster asked.

Johnson shook her head. "Only that it should blow over before morning."

"Colonel," Major Natiroff called, walking into the control room. "My people have located Amy Magillis."

-o-o-o-

"Thanks, Paul," Freeman said, hanging up the phone at the nurse's station. He turned to Straker. "Amy Magillis is here, at Mayland. She was found wandering near the smash up on the M-3 and one of the ambulance crews brought her in."

"What about Mason?"

Freeman shook his head. "Nothing yet. According to the report Paul got, Magillis and Mason were arguing about going into London when they left the set. They were seen driving out together in Mason's car, but they haven't been able to get a lead on where he, or the car, is now. Natiroff suggested you and I go talk to the girl, see what she knows, since we're already here."

"You go," Straker said. "They should be finishing surgery shortly. I want to be here."

"You're sure?"

"Alec, it was Amy Magillis, or someone using her name, that started the chain that put my wife in this hospital," Straker said sharply. "My objectivity isn't exactly..." His lips thinned with self-annoyance as he bit off his statement.

"And mine is?" Freeman wondered aloud.


End file.
